The Long Montain Road
by Scarab-Beetle
Summary: Jassen is a twelve year old boy living in a London Orphanage. Is life is pretty miserable, but when his friend Ulrik is attacked and nearly killed by an Ice Golem, he is whisked away to Norway, where he is told that the Norse Gods really do exist...
1. London Sunday Morning

London for me probably isn't the image of glamour and luxury that it gives many people. I don't know who my mum is. I don't know who my dad is. I don't have a single memory of them, seeing as I was abandoned in a tube station when I was only a few months old. In short, London, in my opinion, is hell on earth. It was a Sunday, and waking up wasn't easy, especially knowing that all that awaited me was a bowl of disgusting porridge sweetened with sour honey, which was a very enticing reason to get up.

I lay in bed for a while, thinking why I might want to get up. I got my reason soon after when Ulrik, a dormmate, ran through the wall. Yes, he did run through the wall. I shot up, shouting: "What the hell!", only to get the reply: "I think you mean Niflheim". Mystified, I was preparing to ask him how he had run through the wall, but he grabbed me and told me to run for my life, just as an enormous figure, seemingly made of ice walked in through another wall. I didn't hesitate. I just ran.

I ran through the corridor of the orphanage, looking for something to defend myself with. I ran into the kitchen, taking the longest knife on display, and one of the covers for the deep-fat fryers as a shield. Turning around when I felt an icy chill down my neck, telling me that the Ice Golem had beaten Ulrik and was now after me.

I hid under the giant ovens, after having hit the Golem with my "shield", and put my knife in it, hoping the Golem would melt, or at least be harmed by a hot blade, seeing as a cold one didn't seem to work, unsurprisingly. Jumping up just as the golem got near, I threw the knife at it and opened the oven, which was on, cooking bread for lunch. Even though the knife hadn't had much of a effect, the oven had melted it, or at least sent it away, considering the small puddle of water at my feet.

I rushed back upstairs to the dormitories, only to find Ulrik surrounded by children in fur clothing, taking to what looked like a cabin mounted on a dragon, which to me seemed a little bizarre. Ulrik looked at me, and then at the other kids, and murmured: "Take him...", before passing out on his wood and fur stretcher.

Considering I'm now on a dragon flying somewhere with a group of angry looking fur clad kids staring at me, I thought I'd take the time to introduce myself. I am called Jassen, but I don't know my last name. I'm twelve years old, and the fur clad kids keep mentioning Heimdall- you know, the Norse God, and are going on about some people called the Guardians.

The Dragon was lurching around, and generally making me sick, but the other kids were unfazed, even Ulrik, who was obviously in a bad way. I got up to see if he was all right, only to be stared back down by the others, who looked at me as if I was completely demented. Just as I regained my seat, I was thrown straight back out of it, and then the dragon stopped moving. We had landed. The kids quickly left, but one stayed behind, obviously annoyed by the fact that he had to look after me.

"Hello, newbie," he began, in a tone that said he probably didn't want to be my friend. "Welcome to the Aesir Encampment. You have been chosen by a particular god to represent them in this world, as they cannot come to Midgard."

"Why can't they come down?" I asked. "Surely the Norse Gods can leave Asgard?"

Apparently that wasn't the case. The guy looked at me blandly and said: "Follow me please."

We left the Compartment and stepped into a large camp with various Viking Longhouses, each with different symbols on them. There was also what seemed to be a forge, an armoury and an extremely large eating hall.

The guy then continued: "Do excuse me for not introducing myself. I am Ulf, one of the Bards of Bragi, responsible for showing you around the encampment. There are several groups who serve here. They include the Guardians of Heimdall (the defender of the Asgard bridge), the berserkers of Thor (the thunder god, the Bards of Bragi (the god of eloquence and the arts), the shadows of Loki (the god of mischief, and the Servants of the Trinity of Beauty (the three Gods Freyr, Freya and Balder, the gods and goddesses of beauty and fertility). I know it's a cheesy name, but it's all we could come up with. Anyway, each group has a longhouse to itself, along with some companion buildings such as armouries and sleeping halls. Each group is led by its respective Jarl, who is also in charge of apprenticing. Any questions?"

I was in a daze. All the events of the past hours had made me senseless, especially as some Bard guy just told me that Norse mythology and everything to do with it was real. I decided to vent my frustration in question form, releasing a torrent of inquisitions:"Which group am I part of? Where do we train? Where are we? What was that ice guy? When-"

Ulf cut me off. "One question at a time, alright. Anyway, answering your questions, you are part of the Guardians, and you will be apprenticed to one of them. You train wherever your Jarl tells you to. We are in Svalbard, in the Arctic Circle. "That ice guy" was a juvenile rogue ice giant, and you dealt with him quite remarkably, I have to say, although it wasn't impressive enough to write an ode about it."

We stepped into a large cabin with an enormous shield over the doorway, to find a petite girl of about fifteen sitting in front of a fire. Ulf called out. "Jarl Leiha, you charge is here."

The girl turned around and looked me in the eye. I instantly knew that life wasn't going to get any easier.


	2. Hunter

Leiha turned around and looked at me. It was the first time I had noticed that everyone at the encampment had blond hair and blue eyes. She showed me the longhouse, with its dining hall, displaying the hunting trophies and battle spoils on the walls. It was as if I had been whisked back into the Viking era.

"Oi. Dreamer. Enough staring. I need to show you our armoury, and get you training. You can explore the rest of the encampment in your free time." Leiha directed that comment at me. I followed her out of a back exit, still in a daze, and walked into a heavily guarded building, with a chimney, and it seemed that someone was making a fire. As it turned out, the building was both an armoury and a forge, and by the furnace two grumpy, short men with long, straight beards were working the metal. I assumed they were dwarfs.

"We need to get you some armour," Leiha told me, "Come on, follow me."

We walked over to where the two dwarfs were working.

"May I present you Bord and Bodrun, our two resident smiths."

Bord looked over. "What armour does he need then, Jarl?"

I answered that. "Full scaled chain body with scaled chain semi-kilt."

Bodrun came over. "He knows about smithing, and he's only been here for a day? Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't take a project like that for a newbie, but I like him, but I'm willing to do it, cos' I like him."

As we left the forge, Leiha started talking again. "You've made yourself some friends for life in those two. They love people who know about their art. Where did you learn?"

"At the orphanage. I spent all my pocket money on books, and I had a great big guide on armour. Why are they so grumpy, the pair of them?"

"It's in their nature." She replied blankly.

"When do I start training?" I asked trying once again at conversation.

An enormous, gleeful smile broke on Leiha's face. "Not until you've completed your first assignment, to prove you're worthy."

"What assignment?"

"Before you get your armour and furs, you need some fur to make the furs out of. And you need to get it yourself. You can start hunting round about now."

She dropped a sword and a shield and walked off. It was only then that I noticed where she had taken me. I was standing in front of a huge pine tree, and many others of its kind were standing majestically around it, as far as I could see. I picked up the sword and the massive round buckler, as I figured I would need them, especially if I was to fight a wolf or bear and come out alive.

I started trudging into the forest, with the snow melting under my feet. I decided to drag something behind me, so as to get rid of my tracks and make sure I didn't become hunted by some dangerous animal. I had no taste for an ambush. It wasn't long before tracks started appearing in the snow. Deer, rabbits, even boar, but no sign of a bear or wolf.

I realized wolves didn't live in this area, as the herbivores didn't seem to be in a hurry at any time when they moved, and there were no areas which massively lacked snow, as you would expect if a large pack of wolves started moving around. I decided to stop looking for wolves and start going after a bear. I followed the tracks of the deer that had passed by earlier in the day, as I needed food and water, and if it brought me to a frozen lake or something, I could have fresh fish and cold water until I found a bear.

The deer tracks did lead to a lake, in fact, and there were also lots of fallen branches around. Not only that, but there even animal skins with which to build a shelter, and carcasses to use as fishing bait. I started collecting wood and moved to the shelter of a group of rocks I had spotted nearby. Using the rocks as walls, I covered them with the wood, keeping some as firewood for later. I went over to the rotting carcasses, gagging at the smell. I skinned the fallen beasts, and as I cut myself some fishing bait, I noticed a Bear tooth stuck in one of the deer's bones, knowing that the beast would soon come back for more food.

After having covered my makeshift shelter with animal skins to waterproof it, I set out to camouflage in with various leaves. It wasn't very good, but I hoped it would do. As night fell, I curled up and went to sleep.

As morning came, I looked around and contemplated the fresh snowfall. It would be easy to track the bear that way. I went over to the carcass with my makeshift fishing rod and looked for a bone with which to break the ice. I noticed, while doing this, that the bear had visited the deer during the night, and fed on it.

I walked over to the lake and used the deer's skull to crack the ice. I then put my rod in the hole and hoped the fish were carnivorous. A few minutes later, I had a fish on my line. Thankfully, the fish were carnivorous. Within the hour, I had enough fish for three days, despite having been told that fishing necessitated patience.

I headed back to my shelter, picked up my sword and shield, and headed on a bear hunt. Following the tracks wasn't very hard. It was the fight I was most scared about. As I reached a large hill, I saw a small gap in the snow: the den of the bear.

I started climbing the slope, hoping that noise would be enough to dislodge it, and cursing myself for not having brought a torch with which to scare it.

As I reached the lip of the den, I looked inside, to see a mother calmly suckling her cubs. Without letting myself succumb to compassion, I yelled as loudly as I could, to make the bear notice me and leave its den, as I couldn't climb down the little hole which the creature somehow managed to squeeze itself into.

I think my efforts were a little too successful, as the bear jumped out of its den and dived into me, and we both started rolling down the hill, perhaps a little too fast for comfort. As I reached the bottom, I picked my lost sword up and waited for the bear, which was calmly sliding down on its rear.

As it reached the bottom I dived at it, but it easily knocked me over, and as it bore its teeth in my face, I swung the butt of my sword into the side of its head, and it slumped over. Unfortunately, it slumped over onto me.

After the immense effort of having wriggled free, I stood over its dead body in triumph.


End file.
